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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23557363">'til we get back again (we won't waste it)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostintranslaation/pseuds/lostintranslaation'>lostintranslaation</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Quarantine Chronicles [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Instagram, May Parker (Spider-Man) Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Cooks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Precious Peter Parker, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), but nobody gets one, canon? defenestrated, or gives one, social distancing y'all</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:07:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23557363</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostintranslaation/pseuds/lostintranslaation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter tries not to think about it, if he can avoid it, because there’s really nothing he can do. Nothing anyone can do. Just stay home and try to flatten the curve of the pandemic. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel sad. </p><p>Sad for the last two months of high school he’ll never get back. The last two months of classes with his best friends, the last two months filled with precious memories that he’ll never get to experience, rites of passage that he’ll never participate in. Snapshots, moments in time that he’ll never see again flash before his eyes. MJ twisting the combination on her locker, Ned falling asleep in AP Physics, morning announcements, early releases, school lunches. All of it, taken from him and his class in the blink of an eye. </p><p>Or,</p><p>The one where Peter unpacks his feelings about quarantine for the first time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>May Parker (Spider-Man) &amp; Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Quarantine Chronicles [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673746</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Spider-Man Public Identity Reveal</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>'til we get back again (we won't waste it)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Today was hard. Realizing that you're never going to take another class with some of your best friends is hard. Realizing that you're never going to get closure on the last four years of your life is hard. Maybe I'm just in my feelings right now because I've been listening to these two songs on repeat all day:</p><p>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUTFfbGUbcw&amp;feature=youtu.be  - "Hard Times Come Again No More"</p><p>https://soundcloud.com/user-439994040/til-we-get-back-again  - "Till We Get Back Again"</p><p>Oh, and the title is from the second link! "'Til We Get Back Again" was written, recorded, and released yesterday, and it's probably my favorite Johnnyswim song ever. Go give it a listen!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter adjusted the camera angle to show him standing over a pan on a stove, spatula in-hand. “Hey everyone! I’m back again!” He stirs whatever is in the pan and it sizzles. “I hope you all are doing well. This is my third week of practicing social distancing, and I’ve resorted to learning how to cook.” He laughs and scoops fluffy scrambled eggs onto a plate that already has bacon and toast on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I don’t usually go live in the morning. I’m usually still asleep at eight,” he turns the stove off and the pan steams. “But today is my aunt May’s first day off in, probably a week now.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the granite countertop. “And I just realized, I’ve never explained to you all why exactly I’m staying with the Starks right now, have I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May is a nurse. An ER nurse, actually. And she’s incredible. I mean, absolutely amazing. But we live in Queens, and she used to have to take the train every morning to get to the hospital for work. And you know, trains and buses are kind of germ hotspots, especially right now.” He grabs something from off-camera-- a grape, and pops it into his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And May has been choosing to isolate herself from me and most other people, just to reduce the risk of spreading any germs she might have picked up at work. As you might imagine, it’s kind of hard to isolate yourself in a two-bedroom apartment in Queens.” He pauses, grabbing the plate in one hand and the camera in the other. “And a little lonely, for me, at least. As, I’m sure you all can tell, I am a definite extrovert.” He sets the plate on a tray on a cart next to the table. “So being stuck in an apartment alone for hours and days on end is not exactly my favorite way to spend time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So Mister Stark and Miss Potts were kind enough to let us crash here at the Tower for the time being. May is staying downstairs. She has a floor to herself where she won’t be able to spread anything that she’s bringing home from the hospital to anyone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He set his phone face-up on the cart and wheels it into the elevator, taking his phone off and walking back into the penthouse. “Wanna send it down to May, FRI?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On it,” the AI’s voice replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So anyways,” Peter leans back on the counter. “That’s why we’re here, and not at our apartment in Queens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs. “You guys? May is incredible. Same with all the other nurses and doctors. All the time, really. But especially right now. They are out working one of the most dangerous jobs right now, and they deserve so much more appreciation than they’re getting right now.” His phone buzzes and he smiles. “Oh, that’s May now. I’m gonna answer this, but I just wanted to tell you all what was going on this morning. I hope you all are doing well! See you all again soon!” Peter ends the stream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>——————————</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter sighs and answers the FaceTime call from May. He sits at a barstool at the counter and her face appears on his screen. “Hey May,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi baby. I wanted to call and say thank you for the breakfast you made me! You’re the sweetest.” She takes a bite of bacon and sets the rest of the strip back down on the plate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome,” he says. He forces a smile to his face, but he doesn’t feel it. “What are you up to today?” It seems like every day that he was away from the people he loved the ache in his chest grows more and more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know,” she lets out a soft chuckle. It sounds more sad than amused. “Just hanging out. Relaxing.” Her glasses droop and she pushes them up on her nose. “What are your plans?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about seeing May on the screen and hearing her voice through the speakers of his phone hurts Peter and he feels his facade crumble. “I’m just--” a lump in his throat makes it hard to talk. He clears his throat. “I’m just going to be doing school, and--” his voice wavers and the tears welling up in his eyes begin to spill over and there’s nothing he can do to stop them. “I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>miss</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, May,” he looks down and rubs his eyes in an attempt to stem the flow of tears. He doesn’t deserve to feel sad. Other people have it way worse than he has it. Other people are actually at risk to get the virus. Other people don’t have jobs to support themselves anymore. Other people don’t know where their next meal is coming from. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Compared to them, Peter is lucky. Peter has no reason to be crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he still does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss you too, baby,” May sniffs and Peter can tell without looking that she is crying, too. “It’s not fair. To anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter sniffs and nods his head, knuckles still jammed in his eye sockets. “Yeah,” he agrees. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything else comprehensible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry your senior year has to end like this,” May says. Somehow, even without being there in person, she always knows what’s really wrong. “I know you were really excited for these last few months.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Senior year. It was supposed to be the best year. The year where students are recognized for all the hard work they’ve put in the past four years of their lives. The closing chapter of a book they’ve all written together, a beautiful tapestry of hundreds of coming-of-age stories colored with personality and vivacity. But they were robbed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter tries not to think about it, if he can avoid it, because there’s really nothing he can do. Nothing anyone can do. Just stay home and try to flatten the curve of the pandemic. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel sad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sad for the last two months of high school he’ll never get back. The last two months of classes with his best friends, the last two months filled with precious memories that he’ll never get to experience, rites of passage that he’ll never participate in. Snapshots, moments in time that he’ll never see again flash before his eyes. MJ twisting the combination on her locker, Ned falling asleep in AP Physics, morning announcements, early releases, school lunches. All of it, taken from him and his class in the blink of an eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They weren’t given any warning that they wouldn’t be returning to school. Students went home one Friday afternoon, happy to see the beginning of a new weekend, unaware that it was their last time walking the halls as high school students. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Peter would give anything to go back to that day and </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoy</span>
  </em>
  <span> it a little bit more. Goof off with his classmates one last time. Not take everything so seriously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s over now. It’s over now and there’s nothing Peter or anyone else can do. So it’s time for Peter to stop crying and move on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. It’s not the end of the world. O-other people have it way worse. I can’t complain.” Peter wills the tears to stop flowing and dries his face with his sleeve. Looking back up at the screen, he sees the tear tracks still glistening on May’s cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re allowed to feel sad, Peter,” she pushes her glasses up to rest on top of her head. “Just because some people have it worse doesn’t mean that you aren’t allowed to feel the way that you feel. Just because I’m young and healthy and not in as much danger as the elderly doesn’t mean that I can’t mourn the things I’m losing from this whole thing. Time with you before you go off to college. Normal life. It’s okay to feel sad.” The tears flow harder now because </span>
  <em>
    <span>she gets it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and now Peter can’t see through his blurred vision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a pause, May’s wavering voice speaks up. “Look at the two of us,” Peter lets out a watery laugh. “Blubbering messes.” Peter nods and rubs his eyes, finally feeling the swell of suppressed emotions recede back within him to be felt again another time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, May,” Peter’s cheeks and ears burn hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I don’t know,” Peter’s shoulders slump. “I just-- it’s the first time I’ve really seen you in, like, a week, and all I do is cry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t apologize, Peter. It’s okay. You’re allowed to cry.” Peter sighs. “I love you so so much, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, May.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t going to last forever, Peter. You gotta remember that. This, too, shall pass, and we’re gonna come out on the other side together.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you all liked this! It was so cathartic to write this today, and I was basically sobbing the whole time because I don't know how to manage my emotions so I bottle them up until the bottle shatters. (dramatic? me? NEVER)</p><p>But yeah. These are hard times. Please message me if you ever need anyone to talk to @wh0doyouthinkyouareiam on tumblr!</p><p>Let me know what you all think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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